


Hot Chocolate

by Relvich



Series: The Blue 'Verse [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Draco Malfoy, Christmas Eve, Domestic Fluff, Draco's late, Drarry Hell Secret Santa, Fluff, Hot Chocolate, M/M, Professor Harry Potter, Shame on him, What is this?, and you can't convince me or harry otherwise, hot chocolate is magical, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 20:07:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9088381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Relvich/pseuds/Relvich
Summary: Harry rather thinks that hot chocolate should replace the whole 'chicken soup for the soul' shtick.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BluepPenguin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluepPenguin/gifts).



Harry was sure that there was nothing better than hot chocolate.

…Well, not _sure._ He could name some things he liked better, of course: His friends, Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts, his job, books, quiet evenings, free thought— just to name a few. But he did know that hot chocolate was pretty far up on the list, and as he had a cup clutched tightly between both hands at the moment, he was fairly happy.

Of course, that didn’t change the fact that he was spending Christmas Eve alone in his office, grading papers. Dreadful papers. _Awful papers._ Honestly, is six inches on the dangers of Basilisks so _very_ hard? They had all told him of the deadly and paralytic properties of a Basilisk’s eyes but nearly all of them had forgotten that it was a _venomous creature_. Harry figures his next lesson should just be titled ‘It Bites you and you’re Dead’.

Hmmm. If it bites you, then you _should_ be dead, maybe. But really, who’s going to have a Phoenix on them?

 _You did,_ his brain helpfully supplies.

Oh well. They _are_ only second years, after all. It’s not like they’re going to need to know how to defend themselves against Basilisks anytime soon.

Harry blinks, and then loses himself with laughter at the irony of that statement. When he recovers himself, there is a knock at his door.

“Come in!”

“Hello, Professor Potter.” came Headmistress McGonagall’s stern voice— but to a practiced listener, it held warmth.

“Just Harry, please.”

“Mm, yes, of course. Mr. Potter.” They both grinned.

 “Please, sit. Care for some hot chocolate, Headmistress?”

“Oh, no, I just came to check up on you.” She glanced at the state of his office, from the papers strewn all over his desk, the tattered green quill in Harry’s hand, to the hot chocolate grasped in the other. “You’re still grading papers? This late, on Christmas Eve? Where is Mr. Malfoy?” Harry pretended not to feel a pang of loss at those words. He was at Hogwarts, after all. His home. No need to feel homesickness when _he was home,_ yeah?

“Ah, well. A reconnaissance thing went late, you know how it is. I imagine he’s loaded with paperwork of his own at the moment, after a mission like that.” He said, twirling his quill before setting it down on a scrap parchment set out for that purpose.

McGonagall nodded a bit in understanding, but there was amusement in her eyes. Harry couldn’t see why until he couldn’t _see_ at all.

“Guess who?” came a gentle whisper at his neck, and Harry couldn’t stop his grin. He pulled the cold hand from in front of his glasses, kissing the back lightly whilst he got up from his chair.

“Why, if it isn’t the Christmas Ferret, come to make my holiday wishes come true.”

“Call me _that_ one more time, and there will be no wish fulfillment for _you.”_ There was a glint of a challenge in those words and in Drake’s eyes, but Harry wasn’t in the mood for an all-out battle of wits that evening. So he simply smiled, a ‘yes dear, of course dear’ painted and implied on his lips.

“I think I’ll take my leave, then.” McGonagall smiled at the two, bid them a happy Christmas, and gracefully stepped from the room.

“Hot chocolate? Without me? I’m _hurt,_ Professor.”

“Oh, calm yourself Auror Malfoy.” Harry chuckled. He sauntered over to one of the three coffee tables throughout the room, where a slate grey mug with the words ‘Live, love, laugh’ printed on it rested. Returning with the mug in hand, he presented it to his boyfriend.

“Half coffee, half hot chocolate. Can’t have my Drake coming home to no hot chocolate, yeah?”

Harry was expecting a laugh, a lighthearted chuckle. What he got was silence.

“…when did you make this?”

“Oh, around nine-ish.”

“Harry, it’s eleven o’clock.”

“I mean, there’s a warming charm on it. Should be fine.”

“Harry, that’s not what I meant. I… sorry. Sorry for making you wait, on the eve of Christmas, no less.”

Harry let out a sigh, lacing his fingers through Malfoy’s free hand.

“I didn’t really even expect to see you at all tonight, love. It’s fine, really.” He pulled him to his quarters that were connected to his office, and sat them both down on the couch across from the fireplace. He lit it with but a mere thought. “See, look. We’re participating in the Christmas Eve hot chocolate drinking tradition, right here, right now. What’s it matter if it didn’t happen a couple hours ago if it’s happening right this second?”

Draco took a sip of his doctored chocolate, mulling Harry’s words. He could see the tension and pointless guilt simply drain from the blonde as he drank, and Harry beamed.

“Thanks love.”

Harry snuggled up closer to Draco, taking a sip from his own shockingly orange mug. They spent the rest of the night in front of the fire, letting steam tickle their noses, savoring the drink and each other as Christmas trickled ever nearer.

The magic of hot chocolate— truly extraordinary, and found in no other place.

It felt strangely like the power of love.

**Author's Note:**

> What even is this. I don't know.  
> Merry Christmas, I guess. Have some hot chocolate?  
> Also, this is kinda late! I got Pokemon Moon yesterday so I procrastinated. sowwy Blue.


End file.
